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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129357">What Lies in Darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoneisha/pseuds/Dragoneisha'>Dragoneisha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Dark Magic, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Spells &amp; Enchantments, The Dark Arts (Harry Potter)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:00:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129357</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoneisha/pseuds/Dragoneisha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrollo Lucilfer is a seventh year at Hogwarts. He intends to keep his head down and learn all that he can, so the Spider can stretch its legs across Europe - once he's out of school. However, there is one thing that keeps getting involved in his <i>dark</i> studies, no matter how much he tries to keep it under wraps.</p>
<p>You.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Lies in Darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the first installment of a work that'll likely be quite long, at least 30k. I'll try to post at least once every two weeks. It's written on request of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkMoldyOctopus">PinkMoldyOctopus</a>, who had such nice things to say about it, I cried. I actually cried! I cried real dragon tears. So thank them for this existing. It is because of them.</p>
<p>This is also my first publicly posted self-insert work! Waho!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As the year begins, it does it in the typical bombastic fashion classic to Hogwarts. The sorting is completed, the hat yells its useless divisions into the hall, and Chrollo Lucilfer ignores almost all of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's been here all year, just about. He and the rest of his group (he hesitates to call them friends, as it seems… juvenile) put in to buy a rotting, ramshackle shack at the edge of Hogwarts and fill it with glory and gold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They move things out of it, generally, by the end of the year, but for the summers, it's theirs. It isn't like Chrollo has anywhere else to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's nice to be under a roof he isn't responsible for patching, though. (He does patch the leaks, but it's a weight off his shoulders to not have to worry about it.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Ravenclaw table is full of food and drink and people's noses buried in whatever books have their attention. Chrollo watches the crowd, seated far away from the front of the table where the new kids settle down. First-years aren't something he's ever been interested in, though he knows Nobunaga’s been on the lookout for a protegé. His eyes sweep idly over the chattering children, but none catch his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, just as quickly as it started, it's over, and by the time the first-years are lining up to go to their dorms for the first time, Chrollo is halfway up the tower. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The eagle seems to grin at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What's the Charm that -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pass. Let me in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The eagle squawks, but the door swings open. It's really not that effective a charm, considering if you yell at it while you're tired enough, it just opens. The riddles are fun, though. When he has the time to waste. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'd set up his dorm that morning, but Chrollo settles himself into the corner of the common room and breathes a sigh of relief. The first day is so hectic. He finds himself finally able to relax and unwind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unbeknownst to him, his relaxation would be cut rather short.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You sigh at the eagle’s riddle. It's barely a riddle - just a basic Arithmancy question with a twist that makes it difficult, but then, putting numbers in spellwork is never easy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a brief count, you perform the spell it's not-so-subtly asking for, and the eagle’s beak opens in the same sharp joy it always has. As the door swings open, you enter, tension easing from your shoulders. It's better to be in the common room while all the first-years are caterwauling until they eventually show up, very soon after you, if the rate at which they’d been going to the end of the hall is to be any indication. Then it's dorms for you, at least until things settle down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You missed being able to rest in the common room during the summer. The quietness of it, broken only by arguments about theory and possibilities and philosophical nonsense everyone cared about but no one cared about it more than whoever won the argument - it’s fun, to put it simply. It was home to you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t like you had a stable home otherwise. It’s not something you want to dwell on (so you won’t) but Hogwarts is an escape. Not really the typical boarding school experience, but definitely worth it. Definitely something… good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You, uh. You really aren’t sure what you’re going to do after it. But you’d really prefer not to dwell on that, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As you enter, someone hums in quiet acknowledgement. You aren’t surprised when you see Chrollo, curled in the corner with a book, but it’s always nice to see him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You two aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not really. You’re friends in the same way you’re friends with the people you sit next to in Potions. You talk on occasion, you share a few jokes, but you aren’t exactly buddy-buddy. Not that you’d mind - after all, Chrollo is quite the clever man, and when you’ve been paired with him in class, he’s been a distant kind of pleasant. He’s not a nice young man, by any stretch of the imagination, but… well, he’s not someone who gets in your way, and you don’t get in his. Doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So you and Chrollo aren’t friends, but you’re acquaintances. Comrades, perhaps, in the quest to learn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You smile at him, a little thin, but you’re not upset to see him. Just tired. As big a day as it’s been, with all the pomp and circumstance that comes with re-entering Hogwarts (and in seventh year at that!) there’s not a lot left in you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The first years were rowdy today,” you offer, a crumb of small talk, on some level similar to offering a horse a sugar cube.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The horse accepts with its prehensile horse lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not looking forward to them encroaching into our space,” he admits in the quiet, his response stopping you in your tracks. To be frank, you didn’t expect him to talk back. He usually keeps to himself. “But I never am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You nod, hesitating with a hand on the banister. “I get it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up from his book. He carries that thing everywhere, and he’s usually either reading or writing in it. Chrollo hums, once. It’s the slightest little sound, but it’s almost like he’s urging you on. Maybe he is?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your voice is a little lower when you talk again, colored by surprise. You don’t talk with Chrollo often, but every time you do, it’s interesting. (Something about him makes you want more, somewhere behind your breastbone and to the side, but that’s just another thing you don’t like to dwell on.) “It’s just - this is our place, and every year they bring new people in, and some of them are fine,  but it’s still adjustment I don’t want to do. I doubt you do, either.” You barely hide a smirk. “You’re no social butterfly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chrollo chuckles without real mirth, settling back in his chair. For a moment, you watch him, as his eyes glide naturally back to that book of his (hand-bound, kept with care) and his shoulders unwind. He’d gained a little tension, when you entered. Maybe the prospect of your leaving is relaxing to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You wouldn't take it personally. As you said, Chrollo is no social butterfly. But you can't help but have a soft spot for him anyway. He and his clique (you're unsure if that's even a good term for their… unusual bond) can be savage people. Pakunoda included, despite the fact that you bunk with her, but you… you get it. You’ve had to be pretty savage too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chrollo tucks his knees to the side, nose back in the book. His whole self slants to the side, more at ease, more comfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You move towards the safety of your room again, but decide to offer one last warning over your shoulder. Just to be kind. It’s rare you can afford a simple kindness outside of Hogwarts, but it’ll be worth it. Perhaps Chrollo will get it into his head that he owes you, like wizards do on occasion. (Not that he ever has. Chrollo is, generally, perfectly happy to take your kindnesses for his own uses.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the way,” you call, “the first-years were coming up the steps when I got in. You should probably watch out for them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You'd never seen Chrollo move so fast in your life. He stands immediately, scrambling to get his book and hurry out of the common room. He flits out of view quicker than a blink, and when he does, you snicker all the way into your dorm room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Restricted Section is no problem for Chrollo. He had a key duped when he was still a second-year, and it isn’t like anyone’s going to find him to stop him. He’s much too stealthy for that, even without magic. Before he was ever invited to Hogwarts, Chrollo was stealing and sneaking with the best of them. Magic is almost unnecessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, he still uses a Silencing Charm on himself, but that’s just so he can relax. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Restricted Section is very particular in its layout. Past the gate, which he thinks is rather overkill, the shelves stretch up into darkness in a way that should be imposing. Chrollo has been here too often. It’s just like walking through a forest for him - not sacred, not hidden. Somewhere he isn’t supposed to be, but enjoys being. Somewhere he’s sneaking. Chrollo’s favorite kind of place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers, faintly, the first time he came into the Restricted section. Usually he doesn’t linger on it, but this being his first excursion of his last year… well, he’s feeling a little nostalgic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been alone. Pakunoda and Machi had come with him, and Uvogin had run into them while he was sneaking out to argue with the portraits and had agreed to keep a quiet watch on the outside. When they’d entered, as first-years, banned from entry and nearly catching themself on every piece of latent spellwork that guarded the place, it had been a fun romp. An experience, an exploration into the forbidden and unknown. They’d probably have gotten caught if it wasn’t for Uvogin making a ruckus when the guard swung by, getting himself in a little trouble instead of everyone in a whole lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He remembers feeling that connection, the pride and determination that kept them together now, for the first time that night. That feeling became the root of the Spider, the thing that held them together, and it had sparked then, with Uvogin’s selflessness. Or, maybe, he’d just wanted a fight.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His view of the Restricted Section had changed a lot since then. Frankly, Chrollo had grown up. It was just another place in Hogwarts, and he isn’t supposed to go there, but he isn’t supposed to do many of the things he does. That’s never stopped him before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He goes down a few bookcases. The stuff he’s looking for is barely even mentioned in here - theory on the Dark Arts only helps him so much. What he’s doing is much more difficult than any silly theory book can help him with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a few books in here specifically about the records of the creation of various Dark Arts. that’s what he wants to look at tonight - while he could check it out, he doesn’t want any suspicion on him when he starts this. He's been working on the theory for a while, but magic is… fiddly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to create the spell, and that can take material components, will, and wand movement, never mind the right words. It isn't so much that you make up a spell than it's you work with the magic to make the thing you want happen. The spells technically exist, if not already, then in theory. Magic is limitless. But you have to figure out how to make it cooperate, and that's where the Dark Arts come in. Well, that’s his theory. It isn’t perfect, but it’s more than the nothing he started out with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is easy, Chrollo muses, to theorize about things you can do. To actually do it… that's a lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns a corner to get into the aisle he's been using, and stops, suddenly, because someone else is here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's nearly midnight. Chrollo blinks, once, at the person settled beside a candle floating in midair. They appear to have conjured themselves an invisible chair, and they're reading the exact book Chrollo himself had a few nights before leaving Hogwarts last year - </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Treatysse on the Historie of Dark Magyk Spelles.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It's impossibly old and impossibly difficult to understand, so to find someone else here, reading it, on the same day…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He approaches, taking even more care, and dismisses his Silencing Charm with a wave of his wand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... [Y/N]?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You jump. Chrollo suppresses a snort. Your presence here surprised him, but he isn't exactly one to be knocked off-kilter for very long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who knew clever little [Y/N] was so willing to get their hands dirty,” he hums, dropping into a slow crouch. He's very tall, and your chair is made for lounging, not sitting upright. Chrollo is reminded of a beach chair. “You aren't meant to be here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” you reply, stiffly. “But neither are you.” The curl of your lip reminds Chrollo of a wild dog. It's a good comparison. He takes a long moment to consider you, head slightly tilted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I came here for that book,” he says, nodding to your prize.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks. “I won't.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As you consider him, he holds out his hand for the book.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment’s pause, and you hand it over, huffing with the kind of annoyance that means you won’t do a thing about it. Chrollo hums in quiet content. “Good,” he says, flipping it open to about where you were reading. “I’d have hated to argue with you about it.” It’s even true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes skim over the page you’d been reading. You’re watching him, but he has most of his attention on the book. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re reading the part that Chrollo had only skimmed, deeming it unnecessary for the kinds of studies he was doing, where the author had pontificated on the exact nature of the Dark Arts. Chrollo hadn’t found much use for the ideas of a man who didn’t even have the scant theories that were available in the modern day to build off of, and he’d largely ignored it. He finds nothing here that he did not expect, but then, he’s been breaking in the Restricted Section since he was a spindly first-year. This is nothing new to him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re very quiet,” you say, after he’s been reading a while. He doesn’t look up. Chrollo didn’t expect [Y/N] to be looking into the creation of Dark Arts, and seeing it is… interesting. He paws through what you’d apparently been looking for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes flick up to yours. You're a little stiff, but you at least meet his gaze. Anything less would have been a disappointment. He didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, but he found your presence agreeable. To be revealed as some kind of coward now would not have ended well for [Y/N].</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think?” he asks, head cocked. You don't reply, so he presses onward. “About the theory of the Dark Arts being a man-made classification. That all the magics are from the same source, and of the same type.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thinks, for a moment, that you won't reply. You're looking askance, [e/c] eyes down, and your concentration is clearly elsewhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But you do. You open your mouth and what comes out is more educated than the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that's nonsense,” you say, which surprises him. “Sure, wizards can use both, but no magic has the cloying effect of the Dark Arts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, you think there's two kinds of magic?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You roll your eyes, and Chrollo is instantly hooked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not,” you say, snatching the book away from him. He's almost too invested to notice, but he makes sure to note it. He can't let you go thinking he’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>allow</span>
  </em>
  <span> such things. “They're from the same source, but almost all of the Dark Arts are things people can do without knowing the spell itself. Overwrite a mind, snuff out a life, cause pain - that's just what happens when an Obscurus gets loose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chrollo hums in interest, his wand tapping his chin with absent thought. While your point makes sense, you're leaving out some important things. “Untrained magic can Vanish and enchant, too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wingardium leviosa</span>
  </em>
  <span> is one of the most common prepubescent magics,” Chrollo points out. He can kind of see what you're saying, but the support just isn't there. “Those aren't Dark Arts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, it's - it's more complex than that,” you huff in irritation. Chrollo is interested in talking theory, but not if you can't get your point across. He glances behind him, checking that no one has heard the voices where there should not be voices. You snap in his ear, and he recoils in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m talking. You interrupted my reading, you're going to listen,” you say crossly. “Look. The Dark Arts are dark because they can be used for dark things, but I don't think magic has morality. I think the three Unforgivable Curses are magic </span>
  <em>
    <span>unrestrained </span>
  </em>
  <span>- the natural state of it. Will given form.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As is… </span>
  <em>
    <span>wingardium leviosa.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Childlike wonder,” you snipe back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All magic is will given form,” Chrollo says. “You could extend that to a thousand spells.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I didn't say my theory was perfect,” you grumble. The book is clamped shut with a sudden flick of your wrist. What is it, are you upset he’s pushed back? Chrollo marvels at the strangeness of all this. “If it was, I wouldn't be reading restricted literature at two in the morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I think you're right,” he agrees. “I think you're onto something, I just believe you have some holes on your logic.” He looks at the book. “I will need that back. I was in the middle of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So was I!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you said yourself you don't agree with it anyway. Give.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When you pass it over, he reaches out and pulls another worn piece from the shelf. He passes it to you, and you look upon it with outright confusion. After a moment of waiting, Chrollo can't help but sigh. It's clearly a gesture of goodwill. What is up with [Y/N]? Can she not identify the most basic things?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you'd like those theories better,” he says, almost gentle. It's nearly worth it for the way you look at him afterward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he settles in the hall to read, Chrollo thinks vaguely of what the rest of the Spider would think of such an occurrence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It takes him about seven hours to find out.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feel free to leave a comment or follow me on twitter @dragonwishes. Thank you so much for reading! Next one soon.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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